Twist
by Hellhound15
Summary: Reincarnation. Had Sebastian decided to twist his final orders, what could have changed. Harry Potter and Kuroshitsuji crossover.
1. Ciel

**Twist**

**AN;** In which Lily threatens, James sucks at names and Sirius is traumatized.

* * *

"Will it hurt?"

Sebastian smiled inwardly. It had been such a human and childlike thing to ask.

"Yes, a little," he hesitated, searching for a few words of reassurance that his past contractors had all searched for. "I'll keep it as gentle as possible."

"Don't," Sebastian startled and nearly raised an eyebrow at that. Well, that deferred from the reactions of his previous contractors. The young master kept surprising him. "Make it as painful as you can. Carve the pain of my life into my soul."

The butler knelt, a Cheshire grin working its way into his lips. His young master was so interesting. He placed his only hand over where his heart would have been if demons had hearts, and tilted his head downward subserviently, bowing down to his young master's order.

"Yes, my lord."

Ciel tipped his head back into the stone bench, watching as his butler tugged off his white glove with his teeth. The demon reached out, caressing the boy's soft cheek, before slipping off the eye patch in a smooth motion and dropping it onto the ground.

A mismatched pair of eyes stared up at the butler and in response, Sebastian's own eyes glowed an eerie crimson and his pupils slitted like a cat's. Ciel closed his eyes, his soul drifting from his flesh container as he willingly gave it up to a demon. The demon leant forward, lips parted to form a mocking smirk.

"_Then,_ Bocchan…" _If it is your wish._

At the last possible moment, he stopped.

The (ex-?) butler stood and swept away, not even staying to watch the soul fragments disperse. His past words drifted after him, long after the darkness had swallowed him up.

"We will see each other again."

After all, the young master had wanted it to be as painful as Sebastian could make it, and the demon's damned pride would _not _allow him to disobey such an order. It was such a shame that the boy had not specified _what._

Sebastian had figured that taking into account the fact that a soul bound to a contract with a demon would not be allowed to pass through neither the Gates of Hell nor the Gates of Heaven, it would have to be sent through the reincarnation stream.

Sebastian smirked.

Their contract had not yet ended.

Not until he had devoured the boy's soul.

* * *

After much threatening and cursing of James Potter's family jewels, much whimpering from said grown man and much teasing from James' supposed best friend, Lily finally gave birth to a healthy boy.

In the end, the new mother got to rest, her husband didn't have to be paranoid about the attachment of his fingers or his precious manly parts, and Sirius got to take a look at his godson.

"Congratulations, Prongs," the new godfather began, staring down at the newborn nestled in a few blankets. "So… wat'cha gonna call him?"

"Well, Lily flower wanted to name him Ciel, after some bloke in her history book. Personally, I think that it sounds overly posh and girly."

Lily snapped back wearily. "I'll have you know that Ciel Phantomhive was a Victorian Era Earl who-,"

"See, that just proves my point. The guy was probably some old, rich and snobby Earl who had too much time in his hands."

"He was not! According to my books, he was kind of like a policeman."

"Policeman?" Sirius asked, confused by the odd and unfamiliar word.

"The muggle version of Aurors."

"Still, sounds really girly. What is it? French?" James protested.

"In fact, it is."

"There's no way my son's going to be named that then." The father put his foot down.

"Fine! Name him whatever you want! As long as it isn't something idiotic like 'Prongs Jr' or 'The Godson of Sirius Black- do not touch' or- or 'God's gift to the world'! I swear I'll curse off a vital part of the male anatomy if you do." Lily had just given birth, she was tired out of her mind and there was no way in hell she was putting up with anymore of this shit.

Both men gulped and crossed their legs, looking appropriately pathetic.

"Yes, Lily flower."

With that, Lily fell asleep, both men afraid to make a sound.

After a few tense minutes, Sirius was brave enough to wave his hand in front of Lily's closed eyes. They breathed in a collective sigh of relief when she continued sleeping. Sirius then turned to look at his best friend.

"So, wat'cha gonna name the pup?"

James had a conflicting expression on his face.

"How about… eh, Matthew?"

"You gotta be _kidding _me._ Matthew _Potter? Seriously, can't you do any better?"

"Hey, I thought it sounded fine. You try if you're so great at it."

"Orion?"

"Sirius, naming children after stars is a_ Black _tradition, _not_ a_ Potter _one."

"They're constellations, not stars!"

"I'm surprised you know the difference. _Actually_, maybe not. Weren't you dating a girl who was studying Astronomy? Sinny? Sinsta?"

"Sinistra. Yeah, in fifth year."

"Fine, whatever. So… Timothy?"

"Are you _insane_, Jamsie? Are you trying to make your son into a social outcast even before he's at Hogwarts? I would hang myself if I was named that! No_ wait_, I would disown my parents and_ then _hang myself!"

"What about…Sebastian?" Even before Sirius could comment, the baby boy let out a nearly out raged sounding wail. "Ok, I guess not then. Hmm… Jesus?"

"What're you doing? Reading a Bible?" James rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

"Well… Lily flower wanted me to learn more about muggle culture and…"

"No, I do not want to know!" Sirius curled up into a fetal position and began rocking back and forth, trying to block out the horrible image of his best friend reading, let alone such a thick one.

"Sirius? Sirius? You'd better stop that before a mediwitch thinks that you're a baby as well. Considering how you're acting now, there's not much difference," James waited a while before giving it up for a lost case. "So, does Harold sound good?"

Sirius would have normally shot that pitiful attempt down in a flash, but he was still too traumatized. Receiving no protest, James took it as approval and grinned proudly.

"Then Harold James Potter it is; Harry for short."

Had Lily been awake, Sirius in his right mind or James not blinded by sheer joy, someone would have noticed that little Harry's eyes flickered azure and striking violet. But it was only a moment before they faded back into the identical emerald that he inherited from his mother.

Alas, it was not to be, and they remained oblivious to the curious state of the new baby's soul.


	2. Red, Purple and Green

**Red, Purple and Green**

AN; Spoiler/ Am I the only one who sees a lot of similarity between Madam Red and Severus Snape? They both fall in love with someone, but then that person is taken by someone else. The person they love dies with the other and Madam Red/Snape is left lonely and alone. They both deceive people after that for a cause. Except that Madam Red turns to the Dark Side while Snape turns to the Light. /End Spoiler.

And I just found out that Soubi (Loveless) and America (Hetalia) have the same Japanese voice actor. Damn, and America tricked us into thinking he couldn't sing!

Ok finished my rant. Continuing with the story.

* * *

It was rather fortunate that a baby's underdeveloped body couldn't handle complicated brain signals.

If it hadn't been so, Ciel would have probably thrown the most dramatic temper tantrum of the century. He would then, most likely, beg someone, _anyone_, to kill him and put him out of his bloody misery already. Being stuck in an uncoordinated infant's body could do that to people.

Fortunately, most of his memories had yet to reappear, only scraps of useless details leaking through and coloring his days.

Like how his mother's red hair should be much shorter, his father's hair was much too messy and that he looked quite odd with glasses. How Padfoot should have been bigger and with white fur instead of black. Or how Moony looked more tired than he had any right to be and that he'd quit smoking and blowing up the kitchen with flamethrowers.

But he mostly ignored those snippets of information, concentrating instead on the multicolored puffs of smoke erupting from the tip of his father's wand. Harry laughed, little fists trying to capture the elusive clouds of smoke.

James picked him up easily and passed him to his mother, then dropped his wand carelessly onto the sofa, stretching like a cat that Sebas-

Little Harry shook his head, before distracting himself by pulling on Lily's red and all too long hair.

**BANG!**

The terrible crashing sound rang throughout the room even after his father had rushed out. What could it be? Even Bard's cooking wasn't so loud.

"Lily, take Harry and go! It's _him_! Go! Run! I'll hold him off-!"

But James' words were cut off by an unfamiliar voice which uttered strange words.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Oddly enough, his mother had to stifle a sob as the hallway was set alight in a flash of green. She kept running up the stairs, even when there was a heavy thump downstairs. But she screamed when the portkey that was supposed to take them to a safe house didn't work. It was the same rattle toy that Wormtail had been playing around with just yesterday.

Lily's eyes hardened as she pushed chairs and boxes over to the door to jam it shut. She dropped kisses onto his head, while whispering reassurances and sweet nothings into his hair.

The door blew open, the hastily stacked objects proving useless, and Lily set Harry down into his cot, and then turned around to face the hooded person. She threw her arms out wide, blocking the other from her son's view.

Harry stood up, using the bars of the cot for support, wanting to see who the other was. Alas, he was still too short to be able to glimpse the other over Lily's shoulder.

There was a jumble of gibberish too quick for Harry to understand, but from the desperate pleading from his mother, he got the distinct feeling that it wasn't merely a pleasant exchange of words.

The other's voice was slightly raspy and distinctly male, but it had a smooth undertone to it. Perhaps Undertaker was playing dress ups. God knows, he's weird enough for that.

There was another streak of green light and his mother dropped to the ground limply, body half turned in his direction and mouth parted to say one last farewell.

But another image overlapped hers, red reflected in his eyes.

There was so much _red_.

Red hair, red clothes, _red_ flowing from _her_ chest as she settled lifelessly onto the ground.

Madam Red.

And just like he had centuries earlier, he called for the one who would protect him until the very end.

'_Sebastian!'_

Green flooded the room at the exact moment Ciel's eye glowed violet, the contract imprinting itself into his iris.

For a second, both battled for the right to survive, before the spell was rebound at the caster, not leaving a mark on the baby.

After all, a demon's power was much more powerful than a mere human's could ever be.

Either that or the Gods just could not be stuffed to reincarnate him again after he'd only just started on his second life cycle.

* * *

Dumbledore was sipping his tea, occasionally popping a lemon drop into his mouth, which he had to admit he preferred much more.

It was late at night, and he was in his office, holding one of his monthly get-togethers with his two oldest friends, Nicholas Flamel and Tanaka.

The pleasant silence was only interrupted by irregular puffs of 'Ho Ho Ho's.

That is, until Tanaka abruptly stopped in his drinking of green tea and turned to look out one of Albus' many windows.

"So it seems that Young Master has awoken from his slumbering. The contract has been reinstated, has it not?" The old man asked the black cat curled up at his side. It stretched, lithe muscles rippling under its smooth fur, slitted crimson eyes luminous in the light.

All three men watched it stalked out, seemingly melting into the shadows.

"You are not worried that your cat will get lost?" Albus questioned the silent man.

"Sebastian does not belong to me," Tanaka answered solemnly. "The only one he will _ever_ belong to is to the Young Master."

Suddenly, there was a burst of sound and color from one of his eccentric looking trinkets which set the room alight in an unearthly red glow. The light reflected onto the windows, which caused it to seem as if the sky had been dyed red, coupled with the unnatural shrieking made it as if the Earth itself was bleeding and screaming out in agony. Fawkes arched his neck, stained just as red as all the others.

'_Those dyed in red. You have all sinned. It's time to pay up.'_

Albus paled; his face nearly the same color as his beard.

The Fidelius Charm on the Potter House had fallen.

* * *

The name of this chapter was supposed to represent individuals.

Red; Sebastian

Purple; Ciel

Green; Voldemort

Considering that red is the first color, Sebastian is the strongest. Purple is second although Ciel is not physically stronger than Voldemort. He is stronger because he doesnot fear Death. Green (the color of Slytherin Superiority and the Avada Kedavra that Voldemort loves to cast so much) is last because Voldemort is so frightened of Death.


	3. Apple

**Author Note; **Yes, I do know that I haven't updated in at least half a year and that you guys have probably already forgotten what this story is about, but I've been having Writer's Block and many of you will know how much that sucks. So please take this as a consolation gift while I try to update quickly while having a ton of homework piling up...

Oh and excuse my bad attempt at British english, it's especially hard when you're Australian and your Word Americanizes all your words. Also please excuse my very horrible tenses... I keep switching between past and present.

**Disclaimer;** No, I don't own Black Butler or Harry Potter... But, hey, I can dream.

* * *

**Apple**

Hermione Granger liked to consider herself fairly smart.

And indeed many people agreed with her.

But this ugly feeling of not quite belonging kept twisting at her insides.

Hermione's classmates avoided her and mocked her behind her back. About her short sightedness and her glasses and her clumsiness. Even though they praised her intelligence, Hermione's teachers never interfered to deal with her isolation.

That was until she saw a young boy sitting alone on a park bench. But he looked content, sometimes politely declining an invitation to join in the games of other children or talking well-manneredly to one of the passing adults.

As she gazed at him, Hermione couldn't help but feel this aching familiarity in her chest. This shivering of her soul, goose bumps rising on her arms.

And when he turned around and looked her straight in the eye, words slipped out of her lips before she could stop them.

"Young Master!"

He smiled.

"Maylene."

That month she was transferred to the same public school as him.

* * *

Petunia had always preferred her own son to her nephew, but even she couldn't deny that Harry Potter was in no ways abnormal.

He was a quiet and polite child but not too silent to seem out of the ordinary. He would rather be left alone by himself but he was in not antisocial. In fact, practically all his classmates and neighbours adored him.

And most importantly, strange and unusual things did not occur around him when he felt high levels of emotion unlike her freak of a sister.

Actually, the only thing that was not normal about him was his extreme normalcy and that eye patch he always wore.

So, not having a reason not to, she treated him like she would any other _normal _child. She stuck him in the smallest bedroom and bought him clothes when they were on sale.

That was, of course, until those letters started arriving.

* * *

Ciel despised cats.

No, rather he held a mutual hatred for them. This loathing had not at all been helped by the countless albums of photos that had been shoved unceremoniously in his face by the batty old lady down the street who persisted in doings so without fail every time he was forced to her house.

In fact, had a cat been in his reaching distance now, it most likely would have been disemboweled, strangled by its own entrails and promptly drowned in the closest potion-filled cauldron.

Unfortunately for Ciel, no matter how much he wished, the only cat in arm distance of him was the one cat that he _couldn't_ torture mercilessly.

The bloody _son of a demon bitch_ was the reason for practically all of the problems in his life.

Ciel glared down at it, projecting as much abhorrence and detestation as he could with a single eye. Being the little fiend it was, it only grinned, lips curled, rows sharp of teeth glinting and scarlet slitted eyes gleaming with mocking amusement.

He scowled. The bastard was_ fucking _enjoying this.

Reigning in his urge to commit feline homicide and replacing it with a mask of polite concern, he turned to face his sickly look accompaniment.

"Hagrid? Are you okay?" Clearly, by the ill green coloring of Hagrid's face, he most definitely was not, but Ciel could only manage border line civility while keeping the murderous intent out of his voice.

"Eh, tha' ride was really rough. Listen, Harry, would yeh mind if I slipped off fer a pick-me-up in the Leaky Cauldron? I'll come back fer yeh later."

Ciel only half listened to Hagrid's mumbling, his attention on the small black cat as it stretched and yawned before it sauntered into a side street marked as 'Knockturn Alley' and merged into the shadows, disappearing from his sight.

Pasting a well-practiced innocent expression, that was frequently used on his teachers and neighbours, on his face, he turned back to his companion.

"That won't be necessary, Hagrid. I feel guilty enough for having taken up so much of your time and I'm sure you have many more important things to attend to." Ciel said, eying the place where the little package had disappeared into Hagrid's cloak.

"Yeh sure, Harry? Yeh got lots'a things te' buy today."

"Don't worry. I'm quite certain that I can find my way around."

"If yeh sure then…"

Ciel nodded quickly, not wanting to have to waste any more time on reassuring his escort.

"Yeh got all yeh money?"

Ciel patted his pouch of galleons and it made a soft tinkling sound.

Hagrid sent a last worried look his way before lumbering through the crowd in the direction of the Leaky Cauldron.

Without a second glance at Hagrid's towering form, Ciel quickly ducked into the backstreet that the cat had disappeared into.

He was extra careful not to step on any puddles (who knew what kind of germs could have developed there?) or touch the grimy walls or bump into dirt caked tramps as he hurriedly followed the feline ball of fur.

Seriously, couldn't it be more considerate of Ciel's general dislike of filth?

Finally, after dodging after the cat through at least thirty different passageways, it stopped and ducked into a barely visible back alley.

By the time Ciel had followed after it, instead of a cat, there stood a man dressed in a butler's uniform, crimson eyes burning with intensity in the dark lighting.

And on his lapel, resting on his chest was an ornate pin of two eagles facing away from each other separated by a crowned shield.

"_Potentia Regere_," Ciel whispers and looks up to see those lips curl into a smile. "The right to rule."

"Indeed," said the demon, his voice low with a slight purr to it. "And if I am the Serpent, I will offer you power and knowledge. But knowing what I am and what I want, will you still take a bite from this apple of mine? Are you willing to fall into Sin and forever be locked away from Eden?"

And for a moment they stare at each other. The scarlet of spilt blood against emerald tinted sapphires. But then Ciel smiles and slips off his eye patch, a violet glow emphasising the soft and sharp lines of his face, and it made all the difference.

He wasn't the same person anymore.

"Then I suppose I shall be the sinner."


End file.
